


Just Deserts

by talxns



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blood and Gore, M/M, Minor Character Death, OOC, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talxns/pseuds/talxns
Summary: Alois summons Claude and gives his very first command. The former Earl Trancy gets what he deserves.
Relationships: Claude Faustus/Alois Trancy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Just Deserts

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings/tags, it's a bit gruesome. Otherwise please enjoy!

Alois rends the darkness with his scream.

“I want this! I want you!”

Suddenly, it feels as if there is a fire in his mouth, burning and searing. His hands come up to cover his lips, to muffle his scream. Tears form and gush down his cheeks and his legs feel weak. He collapses on his knees, head hung. It feels like someone has pressed a white hot branding iron right on his tongue.

The room becomes impossibly dark. It’s as if storm clouds have moved to block out the once brilliant light from the moon, and not a single star can illuminate the earth at this moment. The smoldering embers in the fireplace fizzle out in a hiss. Around him the room becomes freezing cold, but Alois doesn’t have the mind to notice, too concentrated on the torture his mouth is receiving.

When he finally opens his eyes and peers up, there is something in front of him. It’s big, and dark, somehow darker than the pitch blackness of the room around it. It seems to be moving, too, black flames licking the floor and up the walls, even wrapping up the boy’s legs and back, leaving a cold numbness in their wake.

He feels a long arm encircle him, and doesn’t try to pull away as he’s gently brought closer. Through his tears, he can make out a face. The very same pale face he’s seen once in his dreams, though this time, the creature’s slitted eyes burn a bright pink color, and the face is framed in black.

It’s equal parts beautiful and petrifying. Alois can’t help but stare in wide-eyed awe.

The creature’s other hand comes up to Alois’s face, completely black and tipped in long, talon like claws. It cups the boy’s cheek, the sharp nails careful to not break the fragile skin beneath. The dark pad of the demon’s thumb caresses Alois’s chin and bottom lip, prompting him to open his mouth and reveal the new shining seal that brands the muscle. From the corner of his eye, Alois can see a matching golden glow radiating from the back of the demon’s left hand. The ends of the beast’s mouth turn up faintly in satisfaction. “Master...”

Alois surges forward, wrapping his arms around the demon’s shoulders and gripping fast to the strange, leathery fabric that adorns him. His breathing comes fast and shallow. He can’t believe he’s real. Time feels like it stops. Until now, it’s all been dreams, or voices in his head. He was sure he was being driven to insanity. Now, he can see it, touch it, this being. This thing that has been whispering to him for the past month. It’s really here. It’s really come to save him. He’s finally going to be free. Free from...

The old man! Alois quickly turns in the demon’s embrace to look back at the bed, where the Earl Trancy is still fast asleep in a drunken stupor. Alois lets out a relieved breath. That drunk pervert could sleep through a boiler explosion.

When Alois turns back, the demon’s eyes are still blazing into him, as if he’s the only thing that matters. It makes Alois’s heart race.

“Your orders, Master?” the demon says lowly, voice deep and steady, arms still wrapped around him protectively.

Alois wets his lips with his bruised tongue, flinching at the tenderness. He wonders what it looks like, if it’s as unpleasant as it feels. When he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse from his screams.

“I want...” he begins, gathering his scrambled thoughts. Despite having a month to plan this, the boy struggles to form a proper sentence. His hands grip tighter on the devil as he steels his resolve, uttering his first command. “I want you to slaughter that old man.”

For the first time, the demon’s eyes slide away from Alois’s face, landing on the form of the sleeping earl in bed. “Yes, Master,” he responds. The demon stands from his kneeling position, Alois following suit on trembling legs. Moonlight is streaming into the bedroom again from the windows, and Alois idly wonders when it had returned. With the extra light, he can see the devil’s large, terrifying form in more detail as he glides over to the side of the bed.

His hair is inky and black, though when the moon beams catch it at the right angle, a deep, unnatural indigo sheen shines forth. The fringe that surrounds his face sticks out at all different angles like a spiny crown.

When the creature stops at the bedside and looks on at his peacefully unconscious target, Alois scrambles to his side with another request.

“Wait, Mr. Demon!” Alois whispers in a haste, reaching out the grip the black bicep to get the creature’s attention. Those luminous pink eyes land back onto him. Alois swallows. “Wake him first. I want him to suffer.” The boy feels goosebumps rise on his skin when the demon’s serious mouth upturns slightly for the second time that night.

“Of course, my vicious little Master,” the devil says, brushing the underside of the boy’s chin with a bent finger. Alois moves closer, fitting himself against the side of the demon as they look on at the sleeping pervert. Finally the sick old man will get what he deserves. And Alois has a front row seat to watch.

Under the beast’s intense pink gaze, the old man begins tossing and turning in his sleep, grumbling and struggling with whatever he’s seeing behind his closed eyes. Finally with a jolt, his beady eyes snap open and he gasps at the spine-chilling apparition standing at his bedside. Alois almost laughs at his horror-stuck face.

“Good morning, Father Dearest,” Alois croons, his arms wrapped around the demon’s midsection if only to keep himself standing upright. The earl’s wide, terrified eyes don’t leave the face of the creature standing over him despite Alois’s greeting. His breathing is quick as his feeble mind attempts to identify the monster before his eyes. He opens his mouth to scream.

The demon’s hand moves faster than Alois’s eyes can keep up with, a black streak striking the old man’s throat and ripping his vocal cords out through his neck in one fell swoop. Blood begins spurting from the man’s thickest artery as he gurgles and grasps at his torn open throat. The demon deposits the man’s voice box on the floor heedlessly with a wet squelch, ensuring none of his servants will hear his screams and try to interfere.

Alois gasps as he watches, blood beginning to soak into the gold sheets and pillows on the bed. He’s seen his fair share of cruelty, but nothing quite this gruesome. It’s sick, but it’s fascinating. The old man struggles to push himself across the bed, trying desperately to put some space between himself and the demon. It reminds Alois of the boys who would cower away from the old man’s walking stick before he beat them with it. It gives him another idea.

Leaning against the bedside table is the old man’s wooden cane. Alois grabs it up and presses the gnarled wooden handle to the demon’s hand. “Use this,” he instructs, watching with delight as the earl finally acknowledges him and stares at him in panicked disbelief.

The demon looks at the walking implement mildly before raising it and striking the man in the face with the blunt handle. The cane instantly splinters and explodes on impact from the demon’s incredibly strength, and Alois almost shrieks in over excitement at the brutality. Blood blossoms forth from the man’s shattered nose, shards of wood imbedded into his skin.

If the old man could wail he would, but without most of his trachea he is having an increasingly difficult time taking air in. His face is turning a sickening purple under all the blood and froth. The disgusting sounds of the man’s gurgles and the stench of his blood start to turn Alois’s stomach. His ears are ringing. He just wants this to be over now.

“Just.. end it now, please,” he directs, swallowing hard to keep the bile down while watching the pitiful display.

The demon raises the splintered cane and smoothly stakes it through the earl’s chest. Alois turns his face away to press it against the demon’s side, trying hard to focus on his own breathing and not the smell or sound of the old man’s final pathetic moments. He should revel in this gruesome victory; he should have been the one to do it. But this demon— _his_ demon—is strong and willing to do whatever he wishes. He will protect him now, and that’s all that matters.

A long minute passes, and the room becomes deathly silent. When Alois turns his face towards the bed, he sees the lifeless corpse of his abuser and shudders. The bed is irreparably soaked crimson. A sudden, anxious thought cycles through the boy’s mind. How will they get away with this? What will they do now? He hadn’t thought of the immediate aftermath of this killing, but surely when the servants come to wake the lord they will find this horrible mess. Will the demon kill everyone in the household, then? Perhaps they deserve to die too, for standing by while the earl committed such atrocities.

“They will come in the morning,” Alois whispers, peering up at the demon’s stoic face. “What will we do?”

The devil lowers himself to his knee as he did before, and Alois removes his arms from around his waist. Those black hands rise to tenderly cup the boy’s face, one still soaked in cooling blood from tearing the earl’s throat out. Alois barely notices the sticky substance pressed to his cheek and hair, focusing intently on the incredibly beautiful face mere inches from his own. The demon’s thumbs rub lightly against his cheeks, long nails threading through his hair and gently scratching his scalp. Alois melts.

“Leave it to me,” the demon reassures, smearing the earl’s blood against the boy’s cheekbone with his thumb. His eyes have dulled to a rich honey color, and Alois feels as though all of his fears fade away under that possessive gaze.

Gratitude and relief rush through the boy so fiercely that he can’t restrain himself from leaning forward and pressing his lips to the demon’s in a soft kiss. It’s innocent and gentle, only lasting a few heart-stopping moments before Alois pulls away, a bit flustered at his own impulsiveness. The demon looks somewhat curious at his unexpected action, his tongue peeking out of his mouth to taste the sweet essence left on his lips. It sends an unfamiliar heat through Alois’s chest and stomach.

A wave of fatigue overcomes the boy, adrenaline replaced with weakness from all the excitement of the night. He closes his eyes and feels his limp body be taken up in those strong arms, raised and carried over to the settee in the middle of the room. The throw resting across the back of the sofa is gently draped over his naked body. Before the demon steps away, the boy grabs at his hand gently.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmurs, peering up through his lashes at his demon. He has a horrible premonition that this was all a dream, that he’ll wake up next to the old man once more and be forever trapped with no one to save him.

The devil’s fingers brush over his knuckles gently. “Yes, Master. I shall be with you until your last breath.”

Alois searches those golden eyes, reading his sincerity. He sighs softly, closing his eyes and letting the demon’s hand slip from his. He understands the consequences of this profane marriage. He knows what he has signed away by calling upon this demon. But for the first time in months, he falls asleep peacefully, knowing there will be someone there to protect and care for him when he wakes up.


End file.
